About Me

Sunday, October 11, 2009

23. Tings Nov 23

A most auspicious beginning to a nano day of writing don't you agree gentle reader?

I feel like I have issued numerous warning to you of late and I would dearly like to break the trend, but I am afraid that it will not be broken today.

So, you are warned. I have been up since four a.m. and I am getting sick. I was thinking some time off work tomorrow to watch a game, but I had no intention of actually getting sick in order to have a bona fide excuse.

So, gentle reader, sit back, buckle up, and hold onto your hat. This promises to be a prolonged sprint through a tangled thicket of nonsense. And very likely, not high quality nonsense at that.

It is funny to, the need for this sprint today since the first prompt word for the day is:

Turtle.

Turtle. Tortoise. Terrapin. Capsize. Submarine. Logo. Bag.

Slow and steady wins the race...

While it is normally very easy for me to talk and write nonsense, where is the good nonsense or even the copious nonsense when you really need it? Desperately need it.

(6:25 pm Nov 23, 2005)

The party of the first part and the party of the second part are having a party for the most party and you are invited to be a party to the party. There will be a minimal cover charge computed as to the percentage of guests already having shown up prior to your arrival and the spot price of crude on the open market plus two basis points above root mean squared on the kelvin scale of astro-aquatics. This of course, provide you are of the male persuasion. Ladies get in free all night and drink free at their peril. If you are a lady and wish to drink free at this party for the most part, you must first click to agree to a drinking software license agreement. It is a mere three thousand five hundred and twenty pages of dense legalese that has been passed around a few times in the google translate circle.

Gentle reader, I could at this point proceed to pretend to draft this supposed legal agreement meant for clicking by females, but I will choose a more noble path. (For noble, read inert.)

(6:35 pm Nov 23, 2005)

We must fight. Fight with all our summoned, assembled and combined might. Fight against the despair that come when the words won't. Or when they refuse to come along in the correct order, or worse yet, in any order at all.

(6:45 pm Nov 23, 2005)

This becomes even more important when your words want to go out for a night on the town and you are home, getting sick, and needing to paste them down, one by one, onto your computer screen using the equivalent of virtual glue. Our would that be digital glue?

Digital glue. Binary glue. Is it stuck, or unstuck. A glue computer. one old sticky ram. Perhaps that is how the old hairy ram came into being. There was this old bald ram who fell into a pool of binary glue. While he was still wet and tacky, he then fell into a hair mattress and that was that.

(6:49 pm Nov 23, 2005)

Tango.

Tango. Yea Tango. Turtle is done. And now comes tango. Two four time. No Bruno, pop a few more pain killers and go back to sleep. I said two four time, not two by four time. Cat like. Staccato. Ballroom. Argentina. Passion. Plenty passion. Tango alpha mike echo. November oscar tango.

(6:55 pm Nov 23, 2005)

They say it takes two to tango. Does this mean two and two only, or does it signify no less than two? The lonely two tango in the dark, they have been kicked out of the ballroom hours ago and now they tango in the seedy alley, their movements lacking their former crispness. Tiredness creeps up on them like age on their grandparents.

Perhaps the tango is the binary dance. The dance of the digital age. The power of the powers of two.

One, two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty two, sixty four, one hundred and twenty eight, two hundred and fifty six, five hundred and twelve, one thousand and twenty four. One K. Unless you happen to be a hard disk in which case you yet lack twenty four compared to the number quoted. Why, because you are a tricky business man seeking to maximize your bottom line. All while you increase your rear end.

(7:04 pm Nov 23, 2005)

Well, the problem is you see, if the words were really flowing as in a sprint, even though in a nonsensical fashion, I would not feel the need to do the word count dance at such regular intervals. But as it stance, the dance is even picking up pace. Not that dark ally tango mind you, rather this word count dance. Please note too that I am referring to a word in the digital sense, you know like say four bits to the nybble, two nybbles to the byte, two bytes to the word, that sort of thing, no, I am referring to the sorts of words you may find in copious quantities in any reasonable dictionary.

Oops, sorry, just did the dance again. It is more of a shuffle really.

(7:09 pm Nov 23, 2005)

(7:28 pm Nov 23, 2005)

Where do these chunks of time go? Down the drain created by the temporal vortex hinted at previously. Is the direction of the temporal vortex determined by the Coriolis effect? You know, that effect that probably doesn't determine which way water spins down the drain in your basin, but does effect the way the ocean currents travel around in their basins. You see how oceans get special treatment when compared to the rest of us? Is that fair?

(7:33 pm Nov 23, 2005)

Therefore, in light of what has not come before, we form line of battle, we run out our guns, we snatch the weather gauge if we can. We will also snatch the weather gauge if we can while we are at it, but that is another thing entirely. Hmmm. Will a previously snatched weather gauge help us snatch the weather gauge in this coming battle?

Banana Bird.

Banana Bird. Come fly away with me. Why go into battle? Come banana bird, let's fly away. Together. Never mind, you are right, we must fight these battles as we find them. Fight with all our might. Snatch that weather gauge. Steady now lads.

(7:44 pm Nov 23, 2005)

In the guise of a banana bird. You come around here with your sweet song, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, sweet nothings that seep into my brain and rearrange the connections within. Why would you do this? Who are you really my yellow friend? What does that eye hide?

Come nonsense, flow.

---

The Owl and the Pussy-cat

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat:
They took some honey, and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"Oh, lovely Pussy, oh, Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh, let us be married; too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in the wood a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Edward Lear

---

Now that is some lovely nonsense right there. Not like this lousy nonsense I am writing today. How bad is it when the nonsense you are writing is not even proper nonsense?

Let's see, we have three characters there right? The owl, the pussy-cat, and the pig. We have three versus. Each of the three versus has eleven lines. Three times eleven is thirty three. Three characters in three versus. Three, three. Thirty three. Interesting.

Is there some deeper message in these simple lines on nonsense?

Shall we make our own version?

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea

The Hooter and the Pussy went to the moon

In a beautiful pea-green boat:

In a rocket ship made of bread

They took some honey, and plenty of money

They took some sugar and a dried out booger

Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

Tied up with blue nylon thread.

Are we getting somewhere?

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

The Hooter looked down to the moonly street,

And sang to a small guitar,

And wailed on a blues harp in G,

"Oh, lovely Pussy, oh, Pussy, my love,

"Oh, sweet Pussy, oh, Pussy, my sweet,

What a beautiful Pussy you are,

What a lovely Pussy you be,

Anything grabbing you?

You are,

You be,

You are!

You be!

What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

What a lovely Pussy you be!"

Let's pull the first verse together now:

"The Hooter and the Pussy went to the moon
In a rocket ship made of bread
They took some sugar and a dried out booger
Tied up with blue nylon thread.
The Hooter looked down to the moonly street,
And wailed on a blues harp in G,
"Oh, sweet Pussy, oh, Pussy, my sweet,
What a lovely Pussy you be,
You be,
You be!
What a lovely Pussy you be!"

What do you think? Should we try for the other verses?

Guppy.

Yes, we are on our last prompt word for the day. And late getting htere at that.

Guppy. Live bearing. Fan tail. Fancy. South American fishies, tell of a fish that's not a bream. Ya'll know what I'm talking around. Live bearing. West Indies. Fresh water. Hard water. Breeding.

(8:22 pm Nov 23, 2005)

(8:30 pm Nov 23, 2005)

So, what do you say, verse two?

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,

Pussy said to Hooter, "You wailing tooter,

How charmingly sweet you sing!

You wail with the best in the land!

Oh, let us be married; too long we have tarried:

Oh, let us get hitched; I don't wanna be ditched:

But what shall we do for a ring?"

But where can we find arope swing?"

They sailed away for a year and a day,

They flew afar among planets and stars,

To the land where the bong-tree grows;

To Mars with Venusians in the bars;

And there in the wood a Piggy-wig stood,

An there on a stool sat a pig that did drool,

With a ring at the end of his nose,

With a rope swing stretched much too far.

His nose,

Too far,

His nose,

Too far,

With a ring at the end of his nose.

With a rope swing stretched much too far.

So, is that going somewhere? Let's pull it together and see:

Pussy said to Hooter, "You wailing tooter,
You wail with the best in the land!
Oh, let us get hitched; I don't wanna be ditched:
But where can we find a rope swing?"
They flew afar among planets and stars,
To Mars with Venusians in the bars;
An there on a stool sat a pig that did drool,
With a rope swing stretched much too far.
Too far,
Too far,
With a rope swing stretched much too far.

That could use some improving, but let's run with it for now and improve it later if we can.

Well, we have crossed the rubicon of the day's quota, but let's proceed to verse three.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

"Kind Pig, would you please get down on your knees

Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."

And sing?" Says the Pig, "Sure thing."

So they took it away and were married next day

So they wailed and he sang and the patrons ears rang

By the Turkey who lives on the hill.

And their eyes hurt on account of the bling.

They dined on mince and slices of quince,

They supped on grits and stir fried nits,

Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

Which they downed with a sound most profound;

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

And arm in arm, past the road to the farm,

They danced by the light of the moon,

They sailed out on the smooth sound.

The moon,

Smooth sound,

The moon,

Smooth sound,

They danced by the light of the moon.

They sailed out on the smooth sound.

OK, let's bring that together and see what we have.

"Kind Pig, would you please get down on your knees
And sing?" Says the Pig, "Sure thing."
So they wailed and he sang and the patrons ears rang
And their eyes hurt because of the bling.
They supped on grits and stir fried nits,
Which they downed with a sound most profound;
And arm in arm, past the road to the farm,
They sailed out on the smooth sound.
Smooth sound,
Smooth sound,
They sailed out on the smooth sound.

OK, that looks like it could be improved as well. In any case, let's put the whole thing together and see what we have and then finish up for the night and we can sleep on it.

"The Hooter and the Pussy went to the moon
In a rocket ship made of bread
They took some sugar and a dried out booger
Tied up with blue nylon thread.
The Hooter looked down to the moonly street,
And wailed on a blues harp in G,
"Oh, sweet Pussy, oh, Pussy, my sweet,
What a lovely Pussy you be,
You be,
You be!
What a lovely Pussy you be!"

Pussy said to Hooter, "You wailing tooter,
You wail with the best in the land!
Oh, let us get hitched; I don't wanna be ditched:
But where can we find a rope swing?"
They flew afar among planets and stars,
To Mars with Venusians in the bars;
An there on a stool sat a pig that did drool,
With a rope swing stretched much too far.
Too far,
Too far,
With a rope swing stretched much too far.

"Kind Pig, would you please get down on your knees
And sing?" Says the Pig, "Sure thing."
So they wailed and he sang and the patrons ears rang
And their eyes hurt because of the bling.
They supped on grits and stir fried nits,
Which they downed with a sound most profound;
And arm in arm, past the road to the farm,
They sailed out on the smooth sound.
Smooth sound,
Smooth sound,
They sailed out on the smooth sound.